


Protector

by gunmetal_ring



Series: Camp [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunmetal_ring/pseuds/gunmetal_ring
Summary: “Henry’s an idealist, just like Ezekiel. I love that about him, I do. It’s important. But it can be dangerous too.”Carol introduces Henry and Daryl on their way to Hilltop. (Season 9, episode 7: "Stradivarius")
Series: Camp [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058195
Kudos: 5





	Protector

Carol and Henry are riding along in silence, until Henry apologizes for last night.

He’s sweet; she’s been lucky to raise him into the man he’ll soon become, and he’ll be her first baby to live. He won’t get bit or killed to win an argument or murdered by her own hand. She’ll make sure of it. She’ll do anything to keep him safe.

When she watches his gaze turn to the ring she’d retrieved from the ex-Saviors last night, she knows _he_ knows it too.

To that end, she directs the horses off to the right side of the road, riding through the trees towards a clearing she knows well.

Henry asks, “Where are you taking us? Seems like we’ve gone clear off the map.”

Carol sees him furiously reading and re-reading the directions, trying to figure out where they are. “You keep your eyes on the road, mister. I know where I’m going.”

“I know, but -” and his exasperation is cut short when Carol halts the horses.

Daryl’s in front of them carrying a bundle of logs, and she smiles. When she catches his eye, she asks, “Need a ride, stranger?”

His silent smile back is all she needed to know.

—

They ride up to the edge of the trees, and Carol helps Henry dismount as they follow Daryl to camp. Henry starts to walk after him, but she tugs on his arm to warn him. “Careful, there are traps everywhere.”

As they make their way to the fire, Carol takes note of the motorcycle mostly covered by a dirty tarp. He must not be going out much.

But then she sees the broken mast, sails torn to shreds and bits of wood dangling off, and can barely hide her frustration when she asks, “You didn’t fix the boat since last time?”

She deliberately ignores the look of surprise she’s sure Henry’s giving her.

But then Daryl deliberately ignores _her_ , and when she asks him when he’s last eaten he evades that, too.

He’s probably choosing to keep his mouth shut around Henry; not a bad idea, actually, especially because Carol’s agenda involves carefully wheedling a favor from the most reticent man she’s ever known, as well as sneakily protecting a headstrong teenager determined to be independent.

So she follows him out to check the snares, and he snags a snake from a tree, the walker a few feet away be damned.

He shoots it as more of an afterthought than anything else, and when he starts to walk away, she asks, “You’re just gonna leave him there?”

Daryl’s busy surveying the ground. “Yeah, keeps animals away,” he says absent-mindedly.

He’s different than he was six years ago – the ongoing search is taking a toll on him, that much was to be expected – but he’s different from when she last visited him, too. “You’ve been out here longer than I thought you’d be.” She pauses for a fraction of a second, trying to gather herself, and adds, “Longer than you said you’d be.”

She can’t quite keep the note of resentment from her voice.

She _misses_ him. He’s her best friend, and she’s seen him less and less over the years. It’s not healthy for him to be out here alone for so long, searching for someone he’ll never find and ignoring the people who need him the most. Because it’s not just her; it’s _everyone_ at Hilltop and the Kingdom and Alexandria. He’s a hunter and a tracker and a level head and a source of quiet strength. Someone like that is invaluable. Someone like that is a good friend to have.

Someone like that is someone to be missed, for company’s sake if nothing else.

But if Daryl picks up on it, he doesn’t address it. “Yeah, I like it. It’s quiet.”

He’s busy untangling a rabbit from a snare when he asks, “How’s the king?”

It sounds like he’s asking out of a sense of obligation, rather than a sincere concern for his well-being, and if Carol’s not mistaken there’s a thread of derision woven in, too.

She knows he doesn’t particularly like him; Daryl and Ezekiel are two _very_ different people, and their personalities wouldn’t mesh in a normal world. Ezekiel doesn’t pretend to understand their friendship, and Daryl doesn’t pretend to understand their marriage. But they’re respectful to one another, and neither of them criticize or mock the other – or, well, Daryl doesn’t throw out more than a line or two every once in a while – and that’s good enough for her. She likes having parts of her life for herself.

Henry is another story, though. She wants him to have all the protection he can, all the resources he could ask for, all the knowledge he could gain, and that means inviting Daryl into her fairy tale, to some degree.

But she answers him as though he _was_ genuinely interested in how Ezekiel is doing, because he’ll see right through her favor and she doesn’t want to sour it any more than she has to.

“He’s having a hard time letting go. I’m taking Henry to the Hilltop, he wants to apprentice at the smithy.”

Daryl finishes securing the snare, and says, “Well, I appreciate your visit. Seem real good.” He turns around and walks through the brush towards her, and she can see that he doesn’t buy it, just like she knew he would. “You gonna tell me why you’re really here?”

He holds her gaze in that penetrating way of his, and she hedges, just a bit. “I want you to come with us.”

He doesn’t say anything, and she hands him the crossbow, working up the nerve to drop the pretense.

“I can’t stay at Hilltop, we’ve got problems of our own at the Kingdom, and I’d just feel really a lot better if you were there with him.”

She hates this. Hates needing a reason to see him. He has a hard enough time believing that he’s good for company without her trying to manipulate him into doing her a favor that she _knows_ he doesn’t want to do.

She not a fool; she knows part of the reason he doesn’t visit her at the Kingdom is because he doesn’t like her life there. He thinks it’s not real, that she’s just keeping up appearances and doing what she’s _supposed_ to do, and he doesn’t want any part of it.

He’s never said it, but she can tell, and she’s not about to invite him to voice it.

Sure enough, she’s met with a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You want me to babysit your boy?”

“It’s not like that,” she says, quiet and apologetic.

He looks at her from under his bangs. “How is it?”

“Henry’s an idealist, just like Ezekiel. I love that about him, I do. It’s important. But it can be dangerous too.”

Daryl’s answering almost before she finishes speaking. “Nah. He’s gonna have to learn, just like everybody else.” He shoulders past her, and adds, “Just like you and I did.”

She watches him walk off, knowing he’s right but wishing he wasn’t.

—

When they’re back at camp, Daryl’s busy making stew, and Dog brings back another piece of a walker.

“Your dog always do that?”

Carol’s a little embarrassed at the sheer level of condescension in Henry’s question – it’s not only rude to insult Daryl at his own camp the first time they’re meeting, but it’s indicative of the life he leads at the Kingdom.

Predictably, Daryl condescends right back to him. “Well, he’s got his reasons,” he says, and drops the foot into the fire deliberately to irritate Henry. And then he starts skinning the snake in front of them, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

True, he probably would have done both of those things even if Henry hadn’t pissed him off, but he might have been a little less brazen about it.

Carol chooses to intervene, and uses a tone she’s privately dubbed as her Alexandria Voice. She’d perfected it while trying to blend in as a simple housewife, nonthreatening and friendly as can be, and she’s found herself using it plenty at the Kingdom when the situation called for it, too.

It’s the slightest bit different than her Placate Ed voice – it’s perky, not soothing; self-assured, not meek; assertive, not apologetic. But she can appreciate the similarities.

“I’m impressed.” She clears her throat to distract from Henry’s judgemental stare, and says, “This is really nice, you cooking for us. You’re good at this.”

Daryl’s busy skinning the snake, and says, “I’m sure there’s people at Hilltop who know how to cook.”

Carol can’t tell if he’s being dismissive because he’s busy, or because he’s uncomfortable with compliments, or because he doesn’t care about Henry’s feelings. Probably all three.

With that, he finishes up, shakes off his hands, and leaves Carol to her own devices.

Jerk.

She can practically _hear_ the wheels turning in Henry’s head as he processes that, and unsuccessfully tries to play dumb.

“Wait. Is this why we came here?”

Carol shoots him a look, urging him to choose his words carefully.

“‘Cause you think I need a _chaperone_?” He ignores Carol, and injects as much scorn as he can into his words. “And _this_ is the guy?”

“ _Henry_ ,” she hisses, sharp and warning, and he relents, just a little.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

She can tell he’s about to argue, and Daryl steps in – she’s not sure if he was listening and waiting for an opportunity, or if he just didn’t care about interrupting, but either way he’s brought over utensils for dinner.

“About thirty minutes and the food will be ready.”

He sits down across from them and Carol takes the chance to tackle what she’s been itching to do since she laid eyes on him.

She puts on her Alexandria Voice again and says, “Well, good! That’s just enough time.”

Daryl squints at her in confusion. “Time for what?”

—

Carol and Daryl are sitting across the camp from Henry while he waits for dinner, and Daryl’s surprisingly unguarded as she takes a knife to his hair.

It’s grown dark, but the fire’s bright enough for Carol to see, and she focuses on making sure her cuts are even.

She’s so lucky to have Daryl like this; he trusts her implicitly, and his forehead resting against her stomach fills her with a warmth she has trouble containing.

She steps back, assessing the state of his hair, and smooths the section that she was working on back into place.

She can see his face out of the corner of her eye, and knows he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure how to bring it up.

So she waits until he’s comfortable enough to talk, and pulls a new section of his hair taut to start cutting, and when she’s done she sets it back.

She crouches down in front of him, looking at the hair framing his face, brushing it away from his forehead, and her patience pays off.

Daryl worries his lip for a moment, hesitating. “Look, I know you think I’m still lookin’ for him.”

She pulls on the ends of his hair to make sure they’re even, and quietly asks, “Are you?”

He shakes his head, full of grief and regret. “I never found the body.” As she brushes more hair off his face, he adds, “Ever.”

His voice is raspy, and she twists her fingers in his hair for comfort.

He takes a moment to compose himself, and says, “After a while, it just got easier to stay out here.”

She continues playing with his hair, so he can focus on something other than how vulnerable he is, and she murmurs, “You have to let that go.”

She can see him turning the words over in his head for a moment, and when she brushes more hair off his face he wrinkles his nose, she can tell he’s done sharing and caring for now.

She smiles at him, and says, “There, that’s better.”

She can feel Henry’s eyes on them, and she suddenly feels a little exposed, like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

Daryl mumbles, “C’mon, dinner’s ready,” and they get up to eat.

—

Carol sits between them as they eat, and the warmth she feels while they sit together around the fire must show in the way she smiles at Daryl.

She’s glad to have him around. She really missed him.

She feels Henry hesitating, and hopes he’ll be a little more civil than he was this morning with whatever he’s about to say.

“How’d you get the scar, anyway?”

Shit.

Daryl shoots a look at Carol as if to say _why would you let him ask me that_ , and Carol shoots a look back as if to say _sorry, he doesn’t know any better_.

Daryl refuses to answer, and while Carol knew that would be his response, she wishes he could even acknowledge the question, or say something that isn’t quite so dismissive. She wishes that Henry could recognize how invasive even the most innocent-seeming questions are, and that Daryl doesn’t care about being polite.

But instead, she watches Daryl finish his dinner as quickly as possible, throwing down his dishes in irritation and stalking off to feed Dog, and Carol ignores the frustration emanating from Henry.

She appreciates the thought, anyway.

—

Carol falls asleep much more quickly than she’d expected – six years living in a walled village should have weakened her defenses, but she supposes her time on the road won’t ever really leave her behind.

She wakes up to Dog, barking faintly in the distance, and with a start realizes that both Henry and Daryl are gone.

She grabs her bow and arrow, and runs towards the source of the noise, and she’s horrified to see the two of them fending off walkers while Dog is tied up.

One lurches towards Daryl and Henry jumps in front of it, and just before she looses an arrow Daryl kills it.

She watches as Henry gingerly steps out of a trap, and she internally curses herself for letting him stay so soft.

He and Daryl get into a little spat, but neither of them see her as they walk back to camp.

She keeps them in eyesight as she beats them back, and slips into her tent before they reach the fire.

—

Carol wakes up the next morning to the sounds of the forest, and she’s momentarily disoriented before she remembers where she is.

She climbs out of the tent, and she’s surprised to Daryl’s bike out from under the tarp, and even more surprised to see him tying his belongings to the seat.

Henry tries to hide his limp as he gathers his things, and she chooses not to comment on it.

She greets Daryl, and she’s again surprised to see just how happy he is to see her.

She tries to hide the smile on her face as she looks for the coffee, and he asks, “How’d you sleep?”

It sounds like he’s asking, _really_ asking, like he actually wants to know if she slept well, and she wonders what’s gotten into him this morning.

“Good,” she says bemusedly. She squats down to the fire, and asks, “You?”

“Good. Real good.” He speaks more heartily than she’s heard him speak in ages, and she has a sneaking suspicion that maybe he’s changed his mind, and he _will_ come with them.

So she simply says, “Good,” not wanting to jinx it.

As she’s pouring herself a cup of coffee, he says, “Be ready to go in about ten minutes.”

She smiles to herself, and looks over at him, and she’s so proud of him.

She missed him. She’s glad that he’s around.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I rewatched the episode and realized that Carol probably set Dog in the trap like that to force Daryl and Henry to work together (rather than Dog accidentally for-the-first-time-ever getting extremely tangled up with a bunch of walkers conveniently surrounding him), and the conversation between Daryl and Carol in the morning was probably because Daryl realized it was a setup (rather than him just being in a good mood and Carol being happy that he was coming along) but oh well, I'm not going to change it. Maybe I'll repost a second version of it including that, I don't know.


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